


Looking for Group

by Lywinis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - MMORPG, Fluff for the fluff god, M/M, Programmer Steve, Skinny Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is the lead developer of the MMO, Blade of the North. A recent hit, he still manages to do a lot of the work himself — including checking up on a supposed hacker. What he finds instead turns the summer into something a little more bearable.</p>
<p>Phil Coulson is laid up with a broken leg — and he's not hacking. He's bored. He shows Steve a couple new ways to play the game and lets him see his brain child through new eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking for Group

Steve made his customary pre-coding mug of tea, the huge mug dwarfing his thin hands as he set it on the desk. His workspace was orderly, save for the action figures on the shelf above it; the programmer couldn’t help but play with them while solving a logic puzzle, and pieces lay scattered about.

He pulled his glasses on, blue eyes narrowed behind the thick frames. He frowned, chewing his lip as he pulled up his compiler. He liked the digital world much better than the real world. He was able to make things happen here that other people couldn’t. No one saw him for anything but what he created, which was gratifying. No one saw the thin frame, the sickly, sunken chest, his paleness against the light of his monitor. He was freer in the digital world. No one saw him reach for his inhaler, opening his lungs as he tapped his fingers over the keyboard.

All they saw was the Captain, his avatar. Everything he wasn’t, tall and muscular, handsome. A man who could protect people, and did in the MMO he’d helped create.

Blade of the North wasn’t going to ever be one of the heavy hitters, but a recent feature in an LGBTQIA vlog praising it for its inclusion of non-binary and often ignored sexualities made the servers groan with the horde of new people signing up. Tony had purchased them more space almost immediately – the head of Stark Software was nothing if not jubilant over the company’s newest success – and it meant that Steve’s dream was kept alive just that little bit longer. He’d pitched the whole damn thing himself, from the ground up, and had even coded the starting area from scratch, doing the level design and the initial art sketches in his pajamas at three am when he was off work coding for the last company he’d worked for.

Tony Stark had snatched him up in a heartbeat, sensing the potential in Steve Rogers that no one else had. He’d been rewarded. Blade of the North was currently developing an expansion, and while it hadn’t reached World of Warcraft levels of fame, it was still one of the most popular games of the quarter, with gaming magazines praising it. Steve Rogers, the man behind the numbers and the innovative combat mechanics, was never featured – but he preferred it that way, sitting in his private office in his pajama pants and a too-big button up, his feet dangling as he sipped on his tea.

The job allowed him to code from home, a private server with a firewall-laden virtual private network to upload his work meant that he didn’t have to worry about becoming ill when a coworker came in mainlining Red Bull and Nyquil just to be able to meet quota. It was better, because while he could shore up his own shaky immune system, others tended to carry things he didn’t want to think about fighting off. Tony had taken one look at him and set everything up without a word. Steve was hard working and punctual, and the less time he and Tony spent talking to each other face to face, the better. (Both seemed to agree to that, at least. While friendly, they just didn’t hold a lot of the same personal values. Corporate code for Tony Stark made Steve Rogers rage hard about ethics.)

Now, however, he booted up his PC to work on the most recent patches. He had a team of coders working underneath him (and Natasha had gotten him the mug for Christmas – “Coders do it in several languages.”), but he still preferred to do at least a majority of the work for himself.

A beep signaled the IM starting up, and he logged in, knowing he’d probably need to pester Clint for the newest list of hotfixes.

A ping from Natasha got his attention.

 

**[NRomanoff88]: Hey, Cap, you seen the latest?**

**[SRogers]: No. What do you mean?**

**[NRomanoff88]: Someone’s hacked it.**

**[NRomanoff88]: He’s healbotting himself on an Assassin build.**

**[SRogers]: Himself? How is he doing it?**

**[NRomanoff88]: We don’t know. We thought you should take a look at the output.**

**[SRogers]: Have we banned him?**

**[NRomanoff88]: That’s the thing. We don’t know how he’s doing it, so we don’t know if he’s legit hacking the servers or not. Bruce can’t find anything in the combat logs to justify it, and he’s not warping around like the usual node farmers. He’s just…well, look at him. He’s in Wellshire.**

**[SRogers]: Sec, logging in.**

 

He hopped on his personal account, the one he used when he wasn’t on the test servers developing patches, and logged in. The Captain started in his home base of Bath, then warped into Wellshire and sought out the player they were talking about.

 

**[SRogers]: User name?**

**[NRomanoff88]: Roguefort, like the cheese. What a stupid pun.**

 

Steve made a face at that, but he searched, finally finding the guy doing a theme quest. Wellshire was a contested high-level zone, generally thought to be the only zone in the game where a group was required just to get the quests done. High level foes and huge groups meant that sticking together was the key to survival, but this guy was doing one all on his own. Steve, invisible for a moment, watched him take on wave after wave of foes, killing them with ease before he climbed to a rooftop to rest and regain his stamina.

Searching through the combat logs, he couldn’t find anything amiss. He watched the assassin for just a little bit longer, and then pulled up his IM window.

 

**[SRogers]: He’s not actually cheating. There’s no node warping, he’s leaving behind loot, so I don’t think he’s farm botting.**

**[NRomanoff88]: See, and that’s what I told Clint. I don’t know how the hell he’s soloing stuff, though.**

**[SRogers]: Let me find out.**

 

He carefully deflagged himself, removing the notation on his name that he was a GM account. He adjusted his equipment, throwing on his leveling armor instead of the shining white GM armor, and then dropped his invisibility. His thin fingers tapped over the keys as he sought out trouble, and being Steve Rogers, naturally he found it.

A group of giants attacked the village on a three minute schedule, and Steve leapt into the fray. If he blew all his cool downs as a paladin, he could survive one onslaught. The thing about Wellshire, however, was that there was more than one wave.

As designed, the giant wave obliterated him, sending him back to the safe zone with broken equipment. He repaired, then tapped out a message in Looking for Group. This early in the morning, there was just him and the assassin, so he hoped he was contacted. Hell, he was right beneath the assassin’s resting spot, he had to have been seen, if the guy wasn’t AFK.

 

**[The Captain]: Looking for group to complete daily quests. Having a hard time on my own.**

**[Whisper from Roguefort]: I didn’t think anyone was on this early in the morning. Sure, I’ll help you out.**

**[Whisper to Roguefort]: Thank you.**

 

The party invite came a few seconds later, and he accepted. The assassin was still in the same spot, high on the roof overlooking the town center, where the giants would converge.

 

**[Roguefort]: So what are you having problems with?**

**[The Captain]: I need the giants in the middle for my master level quest.**

**[Roguefort]: Ah, yeah, they can be pretty tough if you’re under geared. Come find me and I’ll take a look for you if you want.**

**[The Captain]: Okay.**

 

Steve summoned his mount, then trotted over to the roof. Climbing up, he got his first look at Roguefort. The guy was generic, to the point of forgetability, and Steve wondered if that was an aesthetic choice for the character’s profession. Black leather armor with silver studs, and Roguefort’s daggers were long and sharp, covered in a black nimbus. He at least was using poisons.

 

**[Roguefort]: Hm, not bad. A little outdated, though. Try this stuff.**

 

Outdated? Steve opened his character sheet. Some of his armor was leftover from the initial launch, sure, but there’d never been a real reason for him to upgrade. He hadn’t played the game in ages, too busy working on hotfixes and patches. And while he loved his brain child, the last thing he wanted to do was come off shift and play Blade of the North.

The trade request got his attention, and he opened the window, to a pile of orange level uniques waiting for him.

 

**[The Captain]: I can’t take these, these are so rare!**

**[Roguefort]: Take ‘em. I just use them to smelt down for my armorsmithing. You might as well get some use out of them.**

 

Steve clicked accept, dutifully pulling on the (admittedly better) gear. He turned to find the assassin peering over the edge of the building.

 

**[The Captain]: So are you sure I can’t repay you or something?**

**[Roguefort]: Nah. I have that armor set on the stand already, I was just gonna smelt it down for ingots later. Keep it. :)**

 

Steve blinked, but then the assassin was moving, leaping from the roof into the fray. Steve charged in right behind him, and shouted a battle cry. All of the giants looked to him, and he bore the brunt of their attacks. He kept an eye on his health, and realized he wasn’t actually taking that much damage. There was a cloud around his feet, and as soon as the battle was over and they were back on the roof, he opened up his combat log.

 

**[Roguefort used potion toss, healed with Rejuvenation potion for 4599.]**

**[Roguefort used potion toss, healed with Rejuvenation potion for 4599.]**

**[The Captain (YOU) took 500 damage, mitigated with Rejuvenation aura. (6999 damage absorbed and turned into healing.]**

**[Roguefort used potion toss, healed with Rejuvenation potion for 4599.]**

 

The assassin was using potion toss? At this level? Steve had designed it to provide some damage buffer against the lower level enemies. He’d never expected it to be viable at this level, but it didn’t seem to be hurting the assassin’s damage any. He made a note of it and then followed the assassin back onto the roof.

 

**[The Captain]: How are you staying alive so long?**

**[Roguefort]: I make my own potions, too.**

**[The Captain]: You must play a lot.**

**[The Captain]: Right?**

**[Roguefort]: Maybe? I mean, I don’t have much else to do. I’m laid up with a busted leg. Nothing to do but PT and watch TV until I get the cast off and get to go back to work here in about two weeks. It’s a good thing we’re slow during the summer.**

**[Roguefort]: I was going stir-crazy until my friend Jasper introduced me to the game.**

**[The Captain]: I’m sorry about your leg.**

**[The Captain]: Are you in pain?**

**[Roguefort]: Bit at first, but I’m okay now. Mostly it just itches. :/**

 

Steve nodded to himself and pulled up his IM window.

 

**[SRogers]: He’s clear. He’s not hacking, he’s using potion toss and some max-strength rejuve potions.**

**[NRomanoff88]: Well, damn, guess that means I win the bet. I’ll let Stark know. You gonna work on bugfixes now?**

**[SRogers]: In a bit.**

 

He returned to the window to find a message waiting for him.

 

**[Roguefort]: You know, you’re the first person besides Jasper to really talk to me? I wasn’t really into these kind of games because no one says anything, it’s all about the leveling.**

**[Roguefort]: Maybe I’m just weird, but I play multiplayer games to interact with, I dunno, other people.**

**[The Captain]: Well, that was why the chat was put in, I guess. I like talking to people. :)**

**[Roguefort]: You done with your quest?**

**[The Captain]: Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m done, thank you.**

**[Roguefort]: Did you want to keep going? There’s good gear in here and I don’t mind sharing.**

 

Steve smiled to himself. The guy was pretty personable. It was nice to find someone like that in the game.

 

**[The Captain]: Sure. What did you want to do?**

**[Roguefort]: Me? Mostly I explore. The developers and the art team did a really good job with the armor and weapons, the scenery, too. I’m a bit of a collector. So I’ve been farming up the armor sets for my house.**

**[The Captain]: Sounds time consuming.**

**[Roguefort]: Nah. I watch TV and wander around. It’s actually pretty relaxing.**

 

Something in Steve opened up a little bit, and he felt himself relax into his chair. There was a surge of pride for the compliments to the game, but there was also the sense that this was another lonely soul looking for a bit of an escape. It was…nice. He wandered around beside Roguefort for a little bit, helping him mop up groups and chatting while they rested.

 

**[Roguefort]: You tank a lot of groups? You’re really good at keeping attention off of me.**

**[The Captain]: I used to. I haven’t been playing a lot lately.**

**[Roguefort]: Why not?**

**[The Captain]: Well, I’ve been busy. Work’s been killer.**

**[Roguefort]: Ah, yeah, I get that. You need to relax, though. Work will still be there in the morning.**

**[The Captain]: I guess you’re right.**

 

He looked at the clock, and blinked. When had it become noon? He took a gulp of now-cold tea and made his apologies.

 

**[The Captain]: Speaking of work, I need to head out.**

**[Roguefort]: Sure. Is it okay if I add you as a friend?**

 

Steve hesitated. What harm could it do? He could always go invisible before he logged in.

**[The Captain]: Sure. Nice to make a new friend. :)**

**[Roguefort]: Added. See you later, Cap. :)**

 

Steve smiled at the little green ‘online’ circle next to Roguefort’s name, then logged out.

 

* * *

Steve found himself logging in again the next day. He would have said, if pressed, that it was just him testing some things, but he did smile when Roguefort messaged him almost immediately.

 

**[Roguefort]: Taking a break?**

**[The Captain]: You could say that.**

**[Roguefort]: I could say I wasn’t just killing giants to kill them, but it would be a dirty lie. :) You up for exploring?**

**[The Captain]: You know what, yeah. Give me a couple.**

**[Roguefort]: Sure, lemme know when you’re ready.**

**[Roguefort]: You have vent? It’s easier than typing.**

**[The Captain]: I do, actually. Once sec.**

 

Roguefort gave him the details, and he logged into the server. As soon as he did, he was pulled into a private channel, a user by the name of Cheese lighting up.

“There he is,” he said, and Steve’s heart did a little flip. (Considering his condition, that wasn’t a really good thing, but he was too busy listening to the rich masculine tenor of the guy’s voice.) “You okay there, Cap?”

“Huh?” Steve said dumbly. He shook himself. “Uh, yeah. I’m all right. Wasn’t expecting a welcome quite so soon. Roguefort?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said. He sounded like he was smiling. “Just call me Phil. Or Cheese. Nickname I earned in high school and never quite shook it.”

Steve chuckled. “So I see. That does explain all the cheese puns.”

“Well, I was hoping someone would notice. I worked hard on that one.” Steve found himself grinning at the screen.

“What’re you up to?”

“Nothing,” Phil sighed. “Sitting on your ass is not all it’s cracked up to be. I can’t wait to get this cast off.”

“I know the feeling,” Steve said.

“Broken leg before?”

“Nah, I was sick a lot.” Well, he was still sick, but still. He swallowed before taking a puff on his inhaler. “How’s the farming coming?”

“It’s going pretty good,” Phil replied. “Almost ready for another expansion. I keep filling up the rooms. But I like all the armor sets. They’re not revealing on the female avatars.”

“Yeah, I like that too,” Steve said. “Is this all you do?”

“Well, I’m on paid leave,” Phil said. “Normally, I push papers for the Army.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “I always wanted to go into the military. Dad was a soldier.”

“What do you do?” Phil said, guiding Steve through the area. They were efficient, cutting swathes through monsters while they chatted.

“Oh, I do my fair share of coding,” he said. “It pays well.”

“I bet,” Phil said. “Hey, look, a rock troll. Let’s go poke him.”

He found it easy to relax in Phil’s presence, and even started cracking jokes as they kept going. Phil had a rumble of a laugh, and Steve found himself egging the assassin on to hear it again.

All too soon, however, Natasha was pinging him for an update.

“Hey, I’m sorry about this,” he said. “I just got called in to fix a fire. I should be back later, if it doesn’t get too hectic.”

“Hey, it’s all good. It was nice to have company.” Phil’s voice was warm. “Come back when you can, Cap. I should be here.”

“I…sure.” Steve disconnected from the server and sat for a long moment despite the flashing IM window.

Was he really developing a crush on a man he’d just met? After two days? Was he really that lonely?

He thought about that as he worked through the day’s list of hotfixes. Phil was…well, he obviously liked the game well enough. He took the trouble to go and decorate his player house. Steve pulled up the house’s stats. It was one of the largest on the shard, with suits of armor and weapons displayed, all unique. It was quite the collection, and widely talked about when Steve checked the comment threads.

He used it as an escape. Steve remembered being too sick to leave the house, taking comfort in his mother’s Commodore 64 and tapping out programs. Making simple games. His mother playing them and smiling, no matter how tired she was. This was his world, and it was…isolated.

He rubbed at his face. Maybe it was because Phil was nice, personable, and was interested in what Steve had made, albeit in an oblique way.

He groaned, getting up for more tea. This was typical. Someone who liked him and he immediately latched on like a drowning man. He’d have to keep himself in check.

Shouldn’t be too hard – Phil had to go back to work in two weeks.

He could make it that long.

* * *

It seemed, however, that Natasha couldn’t help but notice his new work schedule. Steve usually knocked off about five, working from six until the dinner rush. Now, however, his mornings were spent with Phil, and he didn’t roll in until noon, sometimes later.

He had a feeling she’d pick up on it first, and he was right – she pinged him about a week afterward.

 

**[NRomanoff88]: Hey, Stranger. :)**

**[SRogers]: Hey, Tasha. You have the edits I requested?**

**[NRomanoff88]: Maybe. What’s it worth to you?**

**[SRogers]: Well, considering I’m your boss…**

**[NRomanoff88]: Joking. :P Just curious as to why I’m beating you to work every day now. What are you up to?**

**[SRogers]: Well, I was playing BoN.**

**[NRomanoff88]: I didn’t see you on the test server.**

**[SRogers]: Because I’m actually playing the game. I haven’t done that since release.**

**[NRomanoff88]: Any particular reason?**

Yeah, and he was in vent with that reason, chatting while he made edits to the code, but he didn’t elaborate to Natasha as he laughed with Phil.

 

**[SRogers]: Nah. I just wanted to experience it without regretting it. Does that make sense?**

**[NRomanoff88]: Yeah, it does. You want to find what made you wanna make the game in the first place. Don’t worry, I won’t tell you’re playing hookey.**

**[SRogers]: It’s not like Stark will fire me, anyway. I’m working twice as hard as I used to.**

**[NRomanoff88]: Very true. Well, here’s the bugfix list.**

**[NRomanoff88 has sent you fix list 03-04-14.txt]**

**[SRogers]: Thanks, Tasha. We should do dinner next week.**

**[NRomanoff88]: Sure. Sushi?**

**[SRogers]: I was thinking pasta.**

**[NRomanoff88]: You’re always thinking pasta.**

* * *

“So what are you up to?” Phil asked, and Steve startled. He’d forgotten he’d hopped into Vent as soon as he got home from his monthly in-office meeting, and Phil popping in right as he was leveling was a shock.

“I, uh, I was leveling,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Sounds like your head was in the clouds,” Phil said, and his voice was soft, almost wistful. Steve swallowed, shaking off the want to just talk to Phil.

“Kinda.”

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“Nah. Wanna go poke the rock trolls?”

There was a slight hesitation, but then Steve could hear the smile in Phil’s voice when he spoke next.

“Sure.”

* * *

A week later, and Steve almost didn’t log on, but Phil had told him that he would be coming home from the hospital soon. He logged into vent, debated on logging into the game, and contented himself with minor changes to the code that would keep his hands busy and not writing out a letter of his feelings for a guy he hadn’t even seen in real life.

He was in love with a voice and an avatar, and he was almost ashamed. Almost, because his whole life was online. His friends, save for Natasha, all resided online – he talked to his childhood friend, Bucky, on Skype twice a week. He was still egging him on to get him a date with Natasha. Sam, a friend from college, talked to him via Facebook and Skype. His support network was intangible, but it was there.

He was at home. He interacted with the world through fiber optic lines, and it was natural that his relationships would progress that way.

He sighed, his eyes getting tired as he scrubbed at them. No one was chatting in the group window, everyone on lunch, and Steve worked through line after line, waiting on vent to signal Phil was online.

When it did come, it startled him, causing his tea mug to spin close to the edge. He caught it, swearing, only to hear Phil chuckling at him.

“You okay there, Cap?” he asked.

“Y-yeah.” Steve could feel his heart hammering in his thin chest. “Sorry, about wiped out my mug.”

“It’s all right,” Phil reassured him, and Steve almost believed it. “My leg itches like hell.”

“Cast come off?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Phil said. “I’m down for a couple weeks while I recuperate. Most of the PT was good, but I need to strengthen the ankle before I can walk on it. Since I’m needed to be at one hundred percent, I was given more leave time. You can’t see me, but I’m rolling my eyes.”

Steve chuckled. “You gonna play a bit longer?”

“Well,” Phil said, his voice uncertain. “I was planning on it. You gonna disappear on me?”

“No.” Steve smiled at his screen. “I like you, I think I’ll keep you.”

“Phew,” Phil said, and Steve could hear his chair creak as he leaned back. “Glad to hear it.”

* * *

“So, you married at all?” Phil asked as they cleaned out what felt like the hundredth town that weekend.

“I don’t know how someone can be married ‘at all’, but no, I’m not,” Steve said, taking a pull on his beer. “Never found the right person to settle down with.”

Phil chuckled. “Somehow that’s surprising. I didn’t think you’d be a guy to be a bachelor.”

“Well, I do okay for myself,” Steve said, rubbing his neck with a thin hand. “Decent job, decent house. I’m allergic to a lot of things so by nature I eat well. Just…never happened to me.”

“Sounds like you’re a pretty confirmed bachelor, then,” Phil said. Steve took another drink.

“You could say that.” He swallowed the cold liquid and glanced at his screen. “What about you?”

“Married to the military,” Phil said, sounding sheepish. “Besides, no one wants a career military man with aspirations to push paper his entire life. It’s a cushy job, and all my expenses are paid for, but…it’s quiet.”

“Sounds secure,” Steve said softly. He was very adamantly trying not to imagine Phil coming home and wrapping around him while he cooked dinner, still in his uniform for the day. Steve peeling him out of his dress greens, helping him get ready for bed. He gave his head a violent shake.

For god’s sake, he didn’t even know what Phil looked like.

Phil chuckled again, that warm laugh that sent a good shiver down Steve’s spine.

“You say that, but being married to one? Nah. My dad and mom made it work, but I’m glad I never tried sometimes.”

“Well, you know, at least you’re not stick thin and asthmatic. And a computer geek to boot,” Steve said. He took another swallow of beer, the bitter liquid somehow matching his mood now.

“I doubt that makes you less attractive,” Phil said. Steve could hear a clink from the other side of the connection. “You have a good job and you sound like you’re home trained, at least.”

Steve snorted. “Thanks, you make me feel so much better.”

“Fine then, prove me wrong. Send me a picture.” The electric charge that had gone down Steve’s spine when Phil laughed was back, and it twisted his stomach.

“What?”

“You heard me. Send me a picture. If I can’t find something nice to say about you, then I’ll concede your point.”

Steve frowned. “You sure? Because I’d hate for my mug to scare you off.”

“Believe me, I could have chosen anyone to level with, and I just so happened to like you. We’ve been talking for what, a month now?”

Steve thought about it.

“Mostly, yeah. I don’t know what you look like, but I know that you can’t eat red meat because the myoglobin makes you sick. I gotta see what your pasty ass looks like now.” There was a smile in Phil’s voice and that was what Steve reacted to, shuffling for a moment.

“Okay. Hold on.”

He muted his mic and went to turn on his light, wobbling a bit from his beer. He was tipsy, the third beer of the night a little over his limit, but Phil had been drinking too. Poor decisions all around. He flattened his hair as best he could and pulled on a fresh t-shirt before turning on his webcam.

He snapped a pic, then turned and gave Phil a profile shot, too. He was squinting, but he didn’t think it mattered much because Phil was gonna decide he was too thin and lanky and stop bugging him about it. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he saved the pictures and put on his headset.

“Where should I send them?” he asked.

“I have Skype, do you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling it up. “I’m ZeeCaptain there.”

Things were silent as Phil clicked around and tapped in the information.

“Brooklyn?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said softly. “FuriousCheeseMachine? Really?”

“Look, it’s a stigma I can’t get away from, okay?” Phil chuckled again. “Might as well own it.”

Steve dragged the pictures over and dropped them, and watched with anxiety as the little blue bars filled up. He muted his mic and rubbed his face.

This was so, so stupid.

The noise signaling they were done made him look up.

“Nope, not seeing what you’re classifying as a scary mug,” Phil said, his rich, warm voice making Steve feel even drunker than usual. “You look pretty handsome to me.”

“Nah,” Steve said, unmuting. “You just wanna be right.”

“Look, I’m being serious, okay? You have nice eyes, and you’re a healthy pink.”

Steve flushed hard, his ears going red. “Shut up.”

“All right, fair’s fair. Here.”

Steve almost didn’t click the link. He somehow didn’t want to know.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go on. Here, this is me in my dress greens.” Another clickable link. Steve couldn’t resist, and he downloaded both.

Opening them up, he was silent for a long moment.

“Don’t make me feel shitty for sending you those,” Phil said. “What do you think?”

Phil had sent him two pictures. One was of himself in dress greens, his uniform done up and Phil standing straight and tall, proud and smiling for the camera. The other picture was a lot less formal, with Phil relaxing by an outdoor fire, a beer in hand as he talked with someone in a camp chair. Maybe that was his friend Marcus he kept talking about. He was wearing a tank top and shorts, and Steve had to admit, his mouth watered just a little bit. He wondered if they were recent pictures.

He was buzzed with alcohol and probably should have kept his mouth shut, but Phil…was really good looking. The dress greens were cut to show his barrel chest, and he had really nice arms. Steve could see freckles and he itched to touch them, just a little.

“…wow.” Steve blurted it out. “You’re really handsome.”

 “You mean that?” Phil asked.

Steve bit his lip. It was time to abort. Things were getting weird and he was making them that way.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Look, I should go. I have work and stuff in the morning.”

“I—sure, okay, Steve.” Phil sounded a little disappointed, but Steve logged off of Vent without much ado, camping right where he was even though he was in a dangerous spot.

“Stupid stupid stupid,” he muttered, tossing his headset down and moving into the bathroom, feeling ill. “He’s gonna think you’re such a stupid weirdo with a crush.”

He washed his face, not getting the relief he needed, but too wound up for a shower. He stripped and dropped to bed in his boxer-briefs, only wiggling under the covers after a long moment of berating himself. His buzz finally wore him down and he drifted off.

He didn’t have work, but he’d find something else to do that wasn’t Blade of the North.

* * *

When he woke, he didn’t like the film that covered his tongue, so he went to brush his teeth, his steps sluggish on the bath mat. He’d just ruined what could have been such a nice friendship with a stupid crush…

He spat blood, then brushed a little more gently.

Climbing into the shower, he let the hot water envelope him before he sighed and pressed his forehead to the slick tile. He wouldn’t be able to talk to Phil again without it being awkward. Better that he avoid it for the time being, sort his stuff out, and then tell him goodbye properly.

Slicking his hair back, he figured he’d debug the new portion of the expansion that was giving the testers trouble. The boss wasn’t targeting players properly – instead, he would warp through the floor and instantly kill the coder who was testing it, making the fight unwinnable. While Natasha joked that it was a feature, it was still something he needed to look at.

He climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, taking in his too-thin chest and the bony way his ribs stuck out. He frowned at the steam-streaked mirror, rubbing a thumb along his protruding breastbone.

“Give it up, Rogers.” He shook his head and moved to dress himself. “Not a chance.”

* * *

He didn’t look for his Skype icon for a while, ignoring the new message button. Instead, he immersed himself in code and logic, things that had nothing to do with feelings. He worked until his eyes burned, then broke for lunch, his Sunday a quiet one, if productive.

He was drinking his tea and eating his sandwich when he finally clicked on the message icon.

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Thanks for sharing your pictures with me. You look really nice, too. I’m sorry if I made this weird somehow. I hope everything’s still cool with us.**

Steve swallowed his bite of ham and sank his teeth gently into his lower lip.

**[ZeeCaptain]: Yeah, we’re cool. I’ll talk to you later?**

Steve didn’t get an answer, and Phil’s icon was dark. He closed the window and went back to work.

* * *

 

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Hey, long time no see. :)**

Steve checked his messages. He hadn’t logged on for a week, throwing himself into a tizzy of bugfixes and programming. He’d tried to forget he’d made an almost drunken ass out of himself, instead working to get them ahead of schedule somewhat on their tasklist.

**[ZeeCaptain]: Yeah, sorry, I’ve been working a lot.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: It’s all right, really. I just miss my leveling buddy.**

Steve felt a pang at that.

**[ZeeCaptain]: Sorry, we’re in a bit of a crunch.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Yeah, I get it, gotta get that new expansion up and running, right?**

Steve froze. He hadn’t told Phil about where he worked, just that he was a programmer.

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: I figured you’d tell me you worked for Stark Software eventually.**

He pasted a link and Steve clicked it, opening it up. It was the press release from PAX a couple of years ago, the one he’d attended to announce Blade of the North. He’d forgotten he went. He stood, smiling with the rest of the team, an arm around Natasha.

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: My buddy Jasper, the one who took that picture of me and Marcus, he recognized you. He was at that panel.**

**[ZeeCaptain]: I didn’t really think it was relevant. I’m sorry.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Nah, it’s fine, I just made myself look like a jackass trying to teach you about the game, that’s all.**

**[ZeeCaptain]: You really didn’t, though. It was nice, to just pretend I was a regular guy for a little bit.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Hey, I don’t blame you. I get it, I do.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Maybe a little heads up next time I start awkwardly flirting over vent, though. :/**

**[ZeeCaptain]: You…were flirting?**

Steve watched the little pencil with trepidation, his heart hammering in his throat.

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Well, yeah. I was flirting, you were flirting. I think.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Please tell me you were flirting because I might have to bury the idea that I have a crush on the lead developer for Blade of the North and repress it into “Phil’s terrible ideas” folder.**

**[ZeeCaptain]: You…have a folder for that?**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Uh. Yeah. Remind me to tell you about the time I almost fell out of a chopper.**

**[FuriousCheeseMachine]: Listen, can I call you?**

**[ZeeCaptain]: Sure. Give me a sec?**

Phil dutifully waited a couple of minutes, and then his Skype showed an incoming call. Steve turned on his webcam and answered, biting his lip.

“So were you flirting?” Phil asked as his webcam loaded.

“I might have been,” Steve admitted. “You actually are really handsome.”

The camera loaded, and Steve could see the grin on Phil’s face, and he couldn’t help but smile back, caught by the sight of him rumpled and in a v-neck shirt. He had a couple of days’ worth of stubble on his face, but Steve couldn’t care less – he had been flirting with him.

Steve pinked over.

“I don’t normally do this,” he admitted quietly. “With you, though…it’s been so easy to talk to you.”

Phil smiled, leaning his chin on his hand. “You’ve been a godsend, really. Just…you could have told me.”

“Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

“Nope. I would still drink beer and clear villages of giants with you over vent regardless of whether you’re the lead developer or you’re actually the Captain.” Phil grinned wider, ducking his head. “But I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Are we?” Steve asked. He drummed his fingers nervously.

“Yeah,” Phil said. “I’m pretty heteroflexible, as Marcus likes to call it, but I just…like spending time with you. Is that okay?”

“It’s better than okay,” Steve blurted. Phil’s face broke into a genuine smile, and Steve smiled back. “I’m skinny and cranky in the mornings – I don’t like to wake up unless I have to, but if you want to still…I guess pursue this, see where it goes? I’m down.”

“Good.” Phil took a sip of his coffee, and Steve could almost smell it, imagining himself nosed up against that square jaw and with his arms wrapped around Phil’s chest. Blue-grey eyes seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking, and Steve bit his lip, still smiling a bit.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Phil murmured.

“They’re not safe for work,” Steve admitted, and Phil laughed.

“I take it you’re working from home?”

“Mostly I do. I go in once a month for meetings.”

“I’m out in Southern California right now,” Phil said, and he looked a little disgruntled by the time difference. “Los Alamitos.”

“Well, then I’ll have to fly out some time,” Steve said with a smile. “You owe me a beer for thinking I’d weirded you out.”

Phil grinned. “I think I can do that.”

“Once we’re ready to take that step, then,” Steve said. “I should get coffee. I’ve gotta get ready to work on my task list for today.”

Phil nodded. “But I’ll talk to you later, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, handsome,” Steve said, pinking just a bit. Phil closed his eyes, smiling at the endearment.

“Sorry, I just…had to savor that.” He opened his eyes and sat up. “I have a PT meeting at one, so…we could do a dinner date later?”

“Takeout?” Steve guessed.

“Yep. Cheap Chinese food and a movie.”

“Sounds like my kind of party,” he said. “I’ll see you there.”

“Good.” Phil waved a bit, and Steve returned it, shutting down the call after a moment. He found he really was looking forward to it.

He smiled and reminded himself to tell Natasha about it so she’d stop trying to set him up on dates with her friend Sharon. She’d always seemed more Natasha’s type anyway.

He actually whistled as he went to get himself some tea and start his day.

Life for Steve Rogers was looking up. Maybe the RNG was finally favoring him, he didn’t know. Whatever it was, he’d take it, because it had brought him Phil.

What a good way to spend the rest of the summer, with someone you liked, and who liked you back.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Coulson's Cakewalk. I'm sorry this is so late - I just got a new job at a bank and I have been coming home mondo tired after work. Normally I wouldn't take timed projects like this, but I had no idea I'd actually get the job I'd been denied earlier. I was supposed to have started my new assignment on the 18th of September, hence I thought I was going to have a lot more time to work on this. It sat at 3700 words and I quite forgot about it and the deadline with learning new processes.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, guys, and your understanding.
> 
> The theme this time around was 'summer' and the prompt was 'two weeks vacation'.


End file.
